


A Late Night Snack

by AnimeFaeMoon



Category: Ai no Kusabi
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:00:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeFaeMoon/pseuds/AnimeFaeMoon
Summary: Riki wants Cal to bake him a cake and Cal reveals a personal side. - One Shot





	A Late Night Snack

**Author's Note:**

> I found this while going through my different storage drives and can't remember if I ever posted it or not. If it is familiar I am sorry. It is NOT CANON, just my take on our lovely Cal's origin. I have NO idea what inspired it, so I must have written it a long time ago. Enjoy.
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------

Cal was having a lovely dream about house plants. They were every where in the condo, of all sizes, shapes, colours and textures, and he was very happily watering them and talking to all of them.

Cake.

No, plants don’t eat cake, they need water and soil and sometimes a little plant food, but definitely not cake.

Cake.

Don’t be ridiculous! I told you, plants can’t eat… Cal opened his eyes and was startled to see a pair of dark ones staring back at him. He sat up quickly, almost smacking his head into Riki’s as the mongrel just as swiftly reared back from where he was leaning over the bed.

“What time is it?” he asked worried. “Have I overslept? Has Master Iason left for the day? Why…?”

“No, no,” Riki quickly and quietly assured. “Sorry, Cal. I’m really sorry. It’s just after two in the morning.”

“Two in the morning?” Cal glanced at his clock, scowled. “Did you need something? Is there an emergency?”

“I need cake.”

“You need cake?”

“Iason wouldn’t let me have any, remember? As punishment for throwing that ugly-ass vase off the balcony.”

“That was a priceless Ming vase from 16th century, Earth, Riki.”

“It was still ugly, and I wouldn’t have thrown it if he hadn’t made me go to that stupid pet party.”

Cal swallowed his frustration and remembered his training. “If Master Iason says you cannot have cake, then I can’t make one for you, Riki.” Especially at two AM in the freaking morning, he added silently.

“He said I couldn’t have it for a month.”

“Exactly.”

“A month ended at midnight.” Riki dropped down to his knees by the bed. “I tried to put it out of my mind, tried to sleep but I can’t! All I can think about is your chocolate cake! Please! Please make it for me.”

“Master Iason would not approve…”

“Please, Cal! I’ll deal with the consequences. It’s been a month!”

As it was probably the first time Cal had ever heard Riki come even close to whining, he reluctantly surrendered. “Very well, I’ll make you a cake, but it won’t be instant. You’ll have to wait for at least an hour, more if you want it frosted.”

“You can frost half of it and give me half when it’s done.”  
“Now, Riki, you are absolutely not eating half of a chocolate cake in the middle of the night.”

“A quarter then.” Riki unceremoniously pulled the blankets off Cal’s slim body. “I can even help if you want.

“It will go quicker if you don’t,” Cal decided as he slid his feet to the floor and into the slippers that awaited them. Riki handed him his robe and followed him out of his room and into the bright lights of the kitchen.

“Seriously, I can help. Tell me what you need.”

More sleep and houseplants, Cal thought but he just offered a thin smile. “You can get me the eggs and milk out of the refrigerator.”

Riki grabbed them and set them on the counter as Cal retrieved the dry ingredients and a large bar of rich chocolate. “What else?”

“I’ll need the big bowl in the lower cupboard third from the left and two of the round baking pans, in the top left-hand cupboard over the stove.”

Cal but his lip to keep from chuckling as Riki, who usually moved at a leisurely pace, had everything in front of him within seconds. “Okay, now sit and be quiet.”

Riki hopped up on the stool by the kitchen island and watched as Cal started to mix the ingredients. “You’re the best, Cal.”

Cal didn’t reply as he set the oven to preheat then returned to his mixing. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed baking, especially for Riki who seemed to love sweets. Iason was not a sweet eater, and so he’d had little chance for baking until Riki came. It was his double fudge chocolate cake that had ultimately won the rebellious pet over, so that he and Riki could live comfortably in their perspective rolls without all that animosity and dissent.

Riki had a taste for sweets so he often brought bags of goodies home, but never did he bring a chocolate cake, nor, from what he had heard, did the mongrel ever order a piece of one when he and Iason ate out. Cal was secretly thrilled that Riki wouldn’t eat anyone’s cake but his.

“How long will it take?”

“About an hour, as I told you.”

“Can’t you make it go faster?”

“If you want to eat the cake raw and uncooked, certainly.”

Riki grinned. “What were you dreaming about?”

Cal’s hand slipped in surprise and the mixer almost fell out of the bowl, but he caught it in time. “I beg your pardon?”

“You were saying something about plants eating cake.”

Cal flushed and kept his head turned away from Riki. “I’m sure I don’t remember.”

“Do you like being Furniture?”

“Of course.”

“Why of course?”

“It is a prestigious profession and especially, to work for Master Iason, which is a coveted position for any Furniture.”

  
“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it a coveted position? Iason can be an arrogant asshole, so why does everyone want to work for him?”

Cal glanced at Riki, confused. “He is Iason Mink, that is why.” He switched off the beaters and after a moment’s hesitation handed one of them to Riki, who brightened like a child and started to lick the batter off. “I understand that perhaps you do not appreciate who and what Lord Mink is, Riki, but everyone else does. He is very important, very special to Amoï.”

“That’s only because no one can see what a sadistic prick he can be.”

Cal wared with defending his Master, who he admired and respected more than anyone, and trying to remain respectful to Riki. Instead of replying he carefully poured the batter into the two cake pans.

“We had another Furniture before you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” Riki asked as he licked the beater clean and then eyed the second one that was still attached to the hand-held device.

“He was terminated.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because he made you a chocolate cake at two o’clock in the morning?” Cal returned smartly as he set the pans in the oven and placed the mixing bowl and the spare beater in the dishwasher, ignoring Riki’s sound of protest.

“No, because he tried to free me.”

Cal’s hand stilled as he was wiping the counter with a wet cloth, then resumed. “That was wrong of him.”

“Why? Because Iason decided to make me a pet? Because as a pet and a mongrel I have no rights? Well, I do have rights, Cal, I have the fucking right to be free and Iason stole that from me. Darryl decided to have a conscience for once, to make his own decision, and Iason killed him for it!”

The sudden change in Riki’s attitude was not surprising to Cal. If there was one thing he had learned it was that the mongrel kept his feelings very close to the surface and could flip on a dime from one mood to the next.

He finished wiping the counter, set the cloth over the rack in the sink then started putting away the other ingredients. “It is not for me to judge why another Furniture did what he did, or how he was punished.”

“Why? Because you’re not allowed to have an opinion? Because Furniture must obey every single word of their master?”

Cal considered his words carefully, before he answered. “Furniture, but it’s nature, is obedient. We are here to serve the household of whichever Lord decides to use us. It does not negate our way of thinking, or our opinions, but it does assume that we are to keep such thoughts and opinions to ourselves; as would be necessary in any sort of job.”

“Doesn’t it piss you off?”

“No, Riki, it does not.” Cal decided that despite what he had just confessed he would reveal his thoughts and opinions to Riki this one time. “You are a mongrel, so you understand what it is to feel a hunger that cannot be filled. A need that can never be met. You know that as a mongrel, others look down upon you, believe you worthless and not worth their time. Am I correct?”

Riki scowled, but nodded. “But you’re not a mongrel, Cal.”

Cal was surprised that Riki had noticed that. It was common knowledge that most Furniture were mongrels that were taken at an early age to be trained as Furniture and so everyone believed he was the same. “No. I am not. I was not born in Ceres, as you were, Riki. I come from a much worse environment.”

“There is nothing worse than the slums, Cal. Trust me.”

“There is. Janus.”

“No one comes from there, that’s Area 6,” Riki retorted in disbelief. “You get sent there to work the mines and only prisoners get sent…” His eyes widened as Cal simply stared at him. “No. No way you…you were born in Janus?”

Cal nodded.

“That isn’t possible! Women don’t get sent to the mines, only men and mutants…”

“My mother was a mutant,” Cal stated quietly.  “The security police did not realize it when they sentenced her because of her deformity and as her vocal chords had been ruined since birth she had no way to communicate her gender to them.”

Riki slumped on the stool in shock. Cal was part mutant? How was that even possible? “But you’re… I mean you look…” He broke off uneasily.

“Normal?” Cal finished quietly. “Yes, I am perfectly normal.”

 A miracle since his mother had been raped repeatedly by the miners once they discovered her secret, and then, after she had died giving birth to him, they had hidden her child for fear of further persecution for what they had done. He had spent days, weeks, months, years in the dark and the cold and the wet. The prisoners rarely gave up their own meager rations to feed him, and he’d had no clothes, no one to care for him or change him so he’d often sat covered in his own filth and slept in the crate one of the Miners kept him in during inspections. He had never decided if it was a blessing or a curse that they could not bring themselves to just kill him.

It had been another miracle that he had survived to the age of four when, during a surprise inspection, he had been found. He’d been taken topside and had screamed like a banshee at his first experience with sunlight. His eyes, having only witnessed the dim, artificial lights of the mines or the shadowed darkness he lived in, took weeks to adjust to the bright light of day.

After being treated for numerous infections, malnutrition, dehydration and a host of other things, he had been given over to a Ruby who had named him, for he’d had no name before then. The Ruby decided that once clean and dressed properly Cal was incredibly pretty, and so enrolled him in the Furniture program. It had been through the program that Cal had been given steady meals for the first time and clean clothes to wear. He’d discovered there were more emotions to feel other than desperation, hunger and fear.

At four he had still been crawling around in the muck and the mire of the mines and had urinated or defecated wherever he could find a place, whenever the urge struck because the miners had never bothered to toilet trained him. And so, he learned what a bathroom was, how and when to use a toilet and how important bathing was.

The trainers taught him how to speak, how to walk and how to eat with utensils. He’d experienced shame for the first time and humiliation when the other children taunted him, but soon he learned pride and achievement and the blessedly wonderful feeling of knowing he was of some assistance to another; that he, the unnecessary and unwanted offspring of a dead mutant could be useful. A kind word here, a soft touch there, a smile of approval aimed his way was all it had taken for Cal to understand that service was all he wanted to do, all he was meant to do.

The elation he felt at pleasing his teachers and then taking care of his first master began a compulsion to serve to the best of his ability. He was Furniture. He was accountable for the household of an Elite, permitted and trusted to purchase the food and supplies of a home, to keep it clean and in working order. He held the responsibility of training and caring for his master’s pets and managing his master’s professional and social schedule. In Cal’s mind, there was no better purpose, no stronger avenue to happiness, not for him.

And then, he met Iason Mink and his life, which he believed could not have been any better, expanded and the happiness and joy he found in all his new and important duties increased exponentially.  Riki however, would never understand his feelings, because Iason Mink did not offer words of kindness or the tender smile of approval. Instead Iason offered something far more valuable, trust. He _trusted_ Cal to do things as they needed to be done without need of interference or intervention.  If Iason asked Cal to do something he assumed it would be done and without reservation. To have the trust of such a being was beyond anything Cal could ever have imagined and he would do everything in his power to keep that trust.

“My early years were not normal, for any child,” Cal continued quietly as he pulled a glass from the cupboard and poured milk into it before returning the bottle to the refrigerator. “Even for a mongrel, and so when I say the Furniture program saved me, I mean it sincerely, Riki. I enjoy my life here, enjoy serving Master Iason and sometimes …” He turned, set the glass of milk in front of Riki. “Even making chocolate cake for his wayward pet at half-past-two in the morning.”

Riki stared down at his milk. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“I am!” Riki’s smirked. “Not as sorry as I would be at not getting the cake, but I am sorry.”

“Hmmmm.” Cal turned away again and reached into the freezer for a casserole dish he had prepared the night before last, he might as well take it out and have it for their lunch. “Go find something to do until it’s ready then.”

“Okay.” Riki finished off his milk then rose. “I’ll go smoke, but I’ll be back.” He paused at the doorway, turned back. “Cal?”

“Yes?”

“I can get that you like being Furniture, and why, I guess, but can you get why I don’t like being a pet?”

Cal lifted his gaze to meet Riki’s, his expression softened. “Of course I do. I have never said otherwise.” His lips firmed. “I am not Darryl, Riki.”

Riki lowered his head, stared at his fingers because he understood what Cal meant. The boy would not make Daryl’s mistake in feeling sympathetic towards him. He would never try to give Riki his freedom. “I know. I barely knew Darryl, most times I hated him because he…” He thought of how Iason had used the young Furniture to molest Riki and then to keep him in line by threatening to do so again. “I didn’t want him to die.” He lifted his head again to meet Cal’s eyes. “I don’t want you to die, either.”

Cal felt a tightening in his chest, was this another form of trust or was Riki simply admitting that he understood Cal would never go against Iason, regardless of his own feelings. “I am glad to hear it.”

“Yeah.” Riki turned walked out.

Cal sighed heavily, then finally released the yawn that had been niggling at him since he had risen from bed, but he was too well trained to release in public. “Gardens, cakes and stories of mutants,” he murmured as he selected the ingredients to prepare some chocolate icing. And his day was just starting.

He kept himself busy until the timer on the oven went off, then he pulled out the cake bins. Carefully removed their contents and set the two rounded mounds on racks to cool. Gathering the ingredients he would need for the icing, he quickly mixed it up, then set the bowl aside; he would have to wait for the cake to be completely cool before he frosted it.

Deciding it was entirely too quiet in the other room, he went in search of Riki and found the mongrel stretched out on one of the sofas it the living area.

“Well,” he sighed and shook his head, then wondered if it was wise to let Riki sleep there. Iason might get upset if he woke and found the mongrel gone. Ah well, a Furniture’s duty was never done.

He carefully levered the sleeping mongrel up and across his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, then took the lift; he wasn’t sure he could manage the stairs, to the second floor. He paused outside the master bedroom, bit his lip. He could be punished severely if Iason saw him doing this and misunderstood, but it would be worse if he had allowed Riki to sleep away from Iason. Cal loved being Furniture, but sometimes the choices he had to make were rather difficult.

Gently pushing open the door, he saw that Iason was still asleep in the large lakeside bed. He hefted Riki into a more secure position, surprised the pet had not yet woken up, then crept into the room. Just as he reached the bed Iason moved. He dropped to the floor, forgetting he had Riki on his shoulder and there was a loud thump and a yelp from the mongrel who woke with a start.

“What the fuck?” he moaned and rubbed where is head had knocked off the bed frame, then his sleepy eyes focused on Cal who was sliding underneath the large bed.

“Riki?”

Riki’s eyes widened at Iason’s voice as he realized the precarious situation he had put them both in. “Uh, yeah, I’m here.” He popped up from the side of the bed just as Iason rolled over to him.

“What are you doing down there? And why are you dressed?”

Riki looked down at his jeans and half-shirt. Shit! “I…uh…went to get a glass of water and didn’t want to go down naked, that’s why.” He quickly shucked his clothes and climbed into bed. “Anyway, go back to sleep.”  
  
“What was that loud noise?”

“What noise? Or that? That was…ah…me, just me. I tripped coming in because I was closer to the bed than I thought I was.”

“I see. Well, since you are awake.”

Riki held up his hands as Iason leaned over him. “No, no, I’m still asleep. I mean sleepy. Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?” He gasped as Iason started to probe his ass with one long finger. “Oh, fuck…Iason, co…come on.” He considered Cal underneath the bed, winced. Sorry man, he thought, just before he was swept away by Iason’s insistent touch.

A little over an hour later, silence finally filled the room and Cal finally climbed out from underneath the bed. He crawled all the way to the door to escape detection then once he was in the hall, sat down on the stairs and rubbed his hands over his face.

As Furniture he could not feel desire for another or be affected by watching or hearing others having sex. However, listening to Riki’s moans, cries and gasps had left him…He tried to think of the appropriate word then glanced down at his hands. Twitchy, he decided. Listening to them have sex made him twitchy.

He rose, shook it off and headed back downstairs. He still had a cake to frost and breakfast to prepare. But first, he would take a walk through the solarium and check on all the plants.

 

 


End file.
